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Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Was it near death or out of body or was I crazy? I do not know and I do not care

I have not spoken of this often. Mostly because when I first
spoke about it, I was uncomfortable with the responses it seemed to attract.
You see, I felt that this experience taught me something I was profoundly unacquainted
with and in deep need of. But when I talked about this experience, people
seemed to be more drawn towards a fascination with the experience itself and
ignored the impact it had on me. So I stopped talking about it. But recently I have been asked to talk about it some more.

I grew up in a home that was for me emotionally abusive. I
never felt loved by my parents. As I reached the age of adulthood I was a
deeply troubled and dysfunctional individual given to very rigid coping
mechanisms and not a few compulsive bad habits. I would not easily admit to it
but I was full of self loathing and felt so inadequate to life. But I “knew”
that for my own protection I had to keep a good front and keep those sorts of
feelings quiet. I did not express them in any significant detail. Instead I
became a hyper conservative, rigid, hellfire breathing and hostile
fundamentalist Christian. I attended Bob Jones University and loved it even
though poor health and a lack of resources prevented me from finishing my
degree at that time.

I was particularly hostile because I could be good at it. And
being a person of above average intelligence I had what seemed to me to be a
very persuasive and well formed theology. To be honest, I was not trying to be
a hypocrite, nor was I trying to be difficult. I was actually hoping that this
faith that made so much sense to me would deliver me from the agony of my
wretched existence. I had hoped it would make me pure, make me godly, that it
would turn me into someone God could love.

One night past midnight in the mid to late 1970’s as I sat
on my couch I was reading from the Acts of the Apostles and the part about how
Peter preached after Pentecost and so many responded to his very effective
message. As a young want-to-be preacher I was jealous of his effectiveness and
knew I just did not have it in me. And I knew why too. I was a disgusting
useless excuse of a human being. I was a harsh husband and father with little
to no empathy and I knew the struggles in my heart made me a person no God
could ever love. So how could I expect that I could ever be a real preacher
like Peter?

As I sat to think it over a series of hypothetical questions
came to my mind. I no longer recall how the questions came about but I will
never forget the questions nor the way I reacted to them. The first question
was: Let us pretend that something has gone terribly wrong in heaven and by
some twist of events, Jesus will have to spend eternity in hell and the only
possibility of getting him out is for me to stop being such a disgusting low
life excuse of a human being. Well, I knew that was impossible. And that
provoked the following question: So as it turns out I would stand by and let
Jesus spend eternity in hell rather than change?

I knew the answer. My reaction to this was that I embraced
the “obvious” reality that I was truly a deeply disgusting human being and that
now I clearly understood the extent to which I was willing the universe should
suffer without my making a change. I became even more despondent and my self-loathing
reached an unprecedented peak. I fell to my knees and prayed one of the most
sincere prayers I had ever prayed in my life. I begged God to do away with me.
I begged him to put me in hell immediately and to rid the universe of my
existence. I hated myself more than ever.

And then suddenly, I was no longer in my body.

I was floating in the emptiness and blackness of space.
There were no stars or any source of light. There was no up or down, I was
simply suspended in a weightless blackness and in a body of sorts but not my earthly
body. I heard a voice saying, “How willing is the Father to give the Holy
Spirit to those that ask.” When I first heard that my reaction was to be
repulsed. The thought of a Holy God and my disgusting self in the same place
made me feel beyond sick; it was in a sense the very torment of hell to even
think of the idea. And then I heard it again, “How willing is the Father to
give the Holy Spirit to those that ask.”

The sickness would not go away and I resisted, until finally
I humbly asked. In the distance what seemed to be millions of miles away with perfect
vision I could see a small source of light rushing towards me at great speed.
It was so far away that it took several minutes to get closer even though its
speed was amazing. Just as it was about to reach my body it suddenly turned
into luminous water and it splashed all over me and I was suddenly drenched
completely with a rush of water. But more than that what grabbed my attention
was the physical sensation of being caressed and surrounded with love and a
voice that spoke quietly and repeated for nearly five minutes or so saying, “Bob,
I love you.”

I shouted out several objections but the voice simply came
back without any change, “Bob, I love you.” None of my objections were
addressed and yet I knew they were not ignored, they were simply completely
irrelevant. I finally let go of the objections and remained in that love
quietly and at rest.

I won’t go into much more of the details, but I spoke to this
comforting voice and that voice spoke back. We talked about many things and
conversed for about a half an hour. During that discussion I completely forgot
to ask any questions about how to change, I totally forgot about how disgusted
I was with myself. The time came for this to end and I was told I was going
back. I said goodbye and expressed gratitude and relief for having been so
loved. And then just as suddenly I came to. I was back in the living room lying
on the floor.

But strangely, although the voice was gone, the presence was
not. I tried to re-engage in conversation. Nothing. Nothing but presence;
nothing but living loved. It made no sense to me but I did not fight it. It
took me over 10 years to work my way through a paradigm shift in my thinking
about God, about theology. But there were two things that were deeply ingrained
from that moment forward. I had lost all ability to hate myself. I still had struggles
and disappointments; I was still in need of working through my problems. But it
was merely work to do; there was no risk of not being loved. And I knew I was
not unique; I knew every human being was just like me; loved with a love that
cannot be expressed.

From time to time that presence seems unusual. I remember
one time walking into a busy bank to make a deposit for my employer and as I
entered the outer foyer it sounded to me as though someone was singing through
a loud sound system inside the bank which seemed quite unusual. But as I
entered the bank no singer could be seen and no one seemed to hear what I was
hearing. I listened to the words and it was a song of delight and celebration
over the beauty in the existence of everyone in that bank. When I realized what
was apparently going on there was silence.

I have no idea what actually happened. Maybe I am simply an
emotional whacko. I have no need to think of that experience as real or fake. I
do not care. But from that day forward I have lived loved and it just does not
stop.

Who is the Unconventional Pastor?

Bob Greaves is a musician and professor of Media Arts teaching music software and Sound Engineering in the Southern Tier of New York State. He also does a Sunday and Wednesday show called "The Unconventional Pastor on Ustream for the New Covenant Group.